


Such Great Heights

by canistakahari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Caretaking, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim is a mother hen, and Bones is selfless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such Great Heights

"You're a hypocrite, you know that?"  
  
Leonard's head is muzzy and his leg aches and all he really wants to do is pull the pillow over his head and _sleep_  but Jim keeps insisting on talking to him. That bastard. "What?" he demands. It's hard to talk around his tongue.   
  
"Hypocrite. You. Are one," says Jim deliberately.   
  
"Go away," snaps Leonard. He blinks at Jim and stubbornly pulls the sheets over his head. "Go away and stop making sounds at me with your mouth."  
  
"Bones. Bones. Bones.  _Bones_. Booooones," sing-songs Jim. "BONES. Don't you want to hear about how much of a hypocrite you are?"  
  
"No," says Leonard from under the covers. Fuck, but his head hurts. Where the hell is the nurse on duty? Clearly they haven't given him enough analgesic if his skull is throbbing like this. He smothers a yawn and tries to get comfortable. It's made difficult by how his leg is trapped in the unforgiving jaws of the stabilizer while the osteo-regenerator does its work, but eventually he forces himself to go totally still and shuts his eyes.   
  
Then the blanket gets peeled away from his face and he's left squinting dizzily up at Jim's (stupid, pretty) wide blue eyes. There's mirth in his expression, but there's also a tightness that gathers in the corners of his mouth and the crow's feet of his eyes. "Please just let me sleep," begs Leonard.   
  
"Shh," hushes Jim gently, adjusting the blankets around Leonard and tucking him in snugly. Leonard huffs a sigh and relaxes. That’s kind of nice, actually. "You've gotta stay with me a little while longer, Bones. Answer my question."  
  
"I don't know," complains Leonard in complete exasperation. He feels like a child at home from school with the flu, fussy and exhausted and sore. "Just tell me, goddammit. You're going to give me an ulcer if you keep this up."  
  
"You bitch, and you moan, and you pelt me with rotten fruit when I 'recklessly throw myself into unfathomable peril,'" says Jim, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Leonard's forehead, "but when  _you_  take a header off a cliff trying to shove Chekov out of the way of danger, it's totally okay."  
  
Leonard blinks owlishly. "First of all, I have  _never_  pelted you with rotten fruit, you ass," he says indignantly. "Second of all, I didn't  _try_  to shove Chekov out of the way of danger, I  _succeeded_  in shoving him out of the way. And..."  
  
"Third of all?" prompts Jim. His eyes are warm with affection and jumbled with worry and his fingers feel awfully good threading through Leonard's hair.   
  
"It's not totally okay," mumbles Leonard contritely. "Sorry. But the kid was gonna--"  
  
"I know," soothes Jim. There's something indecipherable in his expression now. He leans in again and this time, his mouth seem to make a massive error in calculating trajectory and lands firmly on Leonard's lips.   
  
Leonard  _mmphs_  in confusion, fumbling a hand up to curl around the back of Jim's neck. Jim makes no effort to correct his mistake. Instead, his tongue darts out, warm and slick, and Leonard is lost. He whimpers, opens his mouth to Jim, and by the time Jim finally pulls back, they're both panting.   
  
"I really hope you remember that tomorrow," sighs Jim, his thumb brushing Leonard's cheek.   
  
"Do it again, and I might," says Leonard.  
  
(He totally does.)


End file.
